


you know we don't care at all (up against the wall)

by professortennant



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Series, Smut, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 20:38:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14901573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: The second they were in the alley--away from the lights of the street and prying eyes--his hand was on her waist, spinning her around and pinning her against the rough brick of the alley, his mouth hot and insistent on hers.She sighed at the feel of him pressed against her, pushing her into the wall, boxing her in. The rough grain of the brick dragged against her exposed skin, a nice contrast to the soft, wet tongue blazing a trail down her neck and across her collarbones. Her fingers carded through his hair, nails catching on his scalp, and he growled against her skin, the sound reverberating through her.“Are we doing this or what, flyboy?”





	you know we don't care at all (up against the wall)

They’ve been headed here all night. A black, strappy dress with a plunging neckline had haunted him all evening, his palm hot and hovering at the small of her back--guiding, waiting, just brushing against a sliver of exposed skin. 

They’d danced a little too close and when Sam had let the buzz of champagne flood her for just a moment, she turned her head into the crook of his neck and licked at the skin of his neck and jaw, humming softly at the taste of him. “Sam,” he murmured, low and warningly. But she was an Air Force officer and fear was hard to come by; she shifted again and her teeth grazed his earlobe. “Your move,” she challenged.

And he’d risen to the challenge. With sure strides, knowing she could keep up with him, he lead them out the door and into the neighboring alleyway, smiling politely at the benefactors and attendees they passed. 

But the second they were in the alley--away from the lights of the street and prying eyes--his hand was on her waist, spinning her around and pinning her against the rough brick of the alley, his mouth hot and insistent on hers. 

She sighed at the feel of him pressed against her, pushing her into the wall, boxing her in. The rough grain of the brick dragged against her exposed skin, a nice contrast to the soft, wet tongue blazing a trail down her neck and across her collarbones. Her fingers carded through his hair, nails catching on his scalp, and he growled against her skin, the sound reverberating through her. 

“Are we doing this or what, flyboy?” she teased, her hips pressing against his insistent and needy. She was an adrenaline junkie and if he thought she wasn’t above a little public sex when the mood struck her, he was in for a lifetime of surprises. 

Jack’s mouth left her collarbone with a soft  _pop_ , his eyes dark and hooded with desire. He pressed his erection against her, feeling the heat of her sex through the thin fabric of her dress. If he were at home, if they were in a bed, he would lay her out before him, tease her with his mouth and fingers and hand and tongue--over her nipples and abdomen and hips and clit and the patch of skin under her ear that made her toes curl. 

But they were both amped up and she looked so damn beautiful, half-cast in shadow and moonlight. “Yeah, Sam,” he said, voice rough and hand trailing over her breasts. “We’re doing this.”

He thumbed at the peaked nipple beneath the fabric, pinching slightly and smirking at her gasp, before pushing the hem of her dress up around her waist and slipping his fingers beneath the elastic and silk of her underwear. His fingers slipped inside of her easily, his thumb pressing against her clit as his fingers curled inside her. 

She inhaled sharply, hands clutching at his shoulders. Automatically, her leg lifted up over his hip and allowed him closer. Her hands slid down his body and fumbled with his buckle and finally, with shaking hands, she got his pants undone and his zip down. 

While he was still working on bringing her off before she could touch him--his mouth on her neck, his fingers slipping in and out of her and twisting and curling until she was shaking and shivering from pleasure in his arms--Sam groaned and finally wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking over his head and smearing the fluid at his tip over the length of him. 

Jack cursed, hips jerking and thrusting in her hand. “Fuck, Sam.  _Fuck.”_

“Please,” she whimpered, fingers curling over his hip and pulling him closer, needing him inside her. He withdrew his fingers from her and she barely had time to bemoan the loss because then he was  _there--_ inside her, pushing in with an easy thrust, and this--this was what she wanted.

It was a blur after that. All she could feel was Jack pressed inside her, all around her, as his hands held her up, her legs around his waist, her back pressed against the rough texture of the wall--adding to the pleasure-pain of it all. 

Jack’s mouth was working at the tendons of her neck, nipping and licking and sucking his mark into her skin and she encouraged every moment, her fingers in his hair and her lips on his cheek and temple and ear and her breath hot in his ear, urging him on.  _God, yes, fuck, Jack. Please, yes, there. I’m gonna come. Together, please, together._

Her hand had dipped low, slipping beneath the waistband of his pants and giving his behind a squeeze, pulling him in closer and turning her head to bite down on his neck, giving him a mark of his own.

They came together in a flurry of frantic thrusts and touches, cries muffled into skin, hidden beneath the shadows of an alleyway. He let her go, panting softly and tugging his pants up over his hips, hissing at the stimulation of his boxers dragging over him. He debated sliding a finger through her sex to feel the evidence of their coupling, wanting to make her shiver a little more just because he could. 

She wrapped her fingers around his tie, tugging him close, and tilting her head up for a kiss, soft and searching. The franticness of sex against a wall had passed and they were left as they were: Sam and Jack, soft touches and sweeping, stroking tongues, and wandering, gentle hands.

“So,” he said, grinning and breaking away from her kiss, helping her fix her dress and slipping her underwear back into place. “That was new.”

She grinned back, eyes mischievous. “That’s one we can cross off the fantasy list, right?”

“Oh yeah,” he agreed, trailing a finger down her arm and tangling their hands together, tugging her back out in the street to hail a cab. “What’s next? In your lab?”

Her laughter rang out into the empty streets of DC and he tugged her close, slipping his arm over her shoulder. “Yeah, sure, you betcha.”


End file.
